


Plenty of Time

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han and Lando meet for the first time at a masquerade ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plenty of Time

Han tugs at his collar and fidgets with the strap of his flimsy mask. It’s sweaty and itchy and he doesn’t have any peripheral vision, which is not really conducive to what he’s here to do. Bobbing to the swanky music, he sips his wine and checks the time.

The people sweeping around him in finely pressed suits and elegant dresses make him glad he did his research, that he’s not underdressed. It’s not often he attends a masquerade ball.

As he’s eyeing the guests, turning his head slightly to get a full view— damn this mask— he notices a man in an expensive-looking blue-and-gold mask and matching cape milling around by the far wall. Han catches himself homing in on little things the stranger does— the way he holds his glass, how he sways to the sound of the music, the refined way he holds his shoulders back.

Han finds himself reminded of princes he’s met, heirs to thrones and how they’ve held themselves, and then he feels a little ridiculous. Here he is at an honest-to-God _ball_ fixating on his _prince_. He might as well go ahead and slip off a shoe right now.

Unfortunately— or fortunately— for Han, his “prince” seems to notice Han’s eyes on him and starts winding his way across the ballroom. Han can’t help but notice the graceful way he moves, his cape swooshing behind him with every step.

“Hey,” he says, approaching Han. His mask covers his eyes and nose but not his mouth, and Han can see his charming smile. “Like the look.”

He’s pointing to Han’s mask, a steampunk-looking thing he picked up on Jakku. “Thanks,” Han says. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Would you like to dance?” the other man asks bluntly, and Han’s a little surprised by the fact that he really, really wants to say yes.

He checks the giant clock on the wall— lucky for him, he’s still got plenty of time. “Sure,” he says, and takes the stranger’s arm. The man in the cape leads him out to the dance floor.

Han does most of his dancing in seedy bars or outdoor parties, so dancing at the ball is a little out of his area of expertise. Thankfully, the man in the cape leads, taking his waist and guiding their steps. The music swells and the man twirls him across the floor, and Han feels a lightheadedness that has nothing to do with the wine.

“It’s beautiful here,” Han comments at one point, feeling like he needs to say _something_ because he and the stranger are drifting closer and closer into each other’s orbit. They’ve been dancing for a few songs now, the music getting slower and slower.

“It is,” the man agrees, but his eyes are nowhere near the expanses of the ballroom. He’s fixated on Han. “You haven’t done this too often, have you?”

Pressed up close next to another man? Plenty of times. But done it in a fancy ballroom wearing formal attire? “I don’t go to a lot of balls,” Han admits.

“Maybe you should change that,” the man in the cape says, drawing nearer. Before, they were dancing in perfect form, bodies held high and arms aloft, secure, dancing like it was a sport. Now, Han’s arms twine up around the other man’s neck, the man intermittently tightens and loosens his hands behind Han’s back. They sway slowly; Han can smell sweet wine and cologne.

The ballroom, the other guests, even the giant clock ticking away— they all seem so distant now. Han licks his lips without really realizing he’s doing it. “You look absolutely beautiful,” the man in the cape tells him, and Han almost makes a quip about _That’s because you can’t see my face._ “You truly belong here with us among the clouds.”

Without really thinking about it, they kiss, languidly, for a long time. Han can taste the wine on both their lips. Their masks collide and they barely notice, so consumed in each other. Han’s never felt so grounded by another person, so simultaneously swept off his feet. He relishes in it.

They dance; they kiss; the night goes on. That giant clock ticks and ticks, until finally Han knows he has to get moving. Taking his hands off of the man in the cape, though, seems impossible. “Hey,” he whispers into the other man’s dark hair.

“Hm?” They’ve been swaying softly, almost sleepily, for the past few minutes.

“Here’s the thing,” Han says, despite everything in his head screaming at him to shut his mouth. “I’ve got something to do tonight. And I’ve been thinking… maybe you could help out.”

“Oh?” says the man in the cape suggestively.

“Well, not along _those_ lines,” Han laughs, “although, you know, there’s plenty of time.” He can see the man’s smirk, the only exposed part of his face. “No, see, the thing is… how would you like to come into a little extra money?”

He smiles. “Coming into a little extra money is a favorite pastime of mine.”

“Alright,” Han says, grinning. “See, I’ve got… I’ve got this plan. What a lot of people don’t know is—the Annalisian Crystals are being kept in _this_ building. And it really won’t be that hard to steal them, we just have to sneak past security—”

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” the man in the cape says, all sense of allure and charm dropping from his voice. “ _What_?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Han says quickly, “I know exactly what to do. We won’t be in any trouble.”

“Uh, _we_ won’t,” the man in the cape says, and whips off his mask. “ _You_ might.”

“Aw, kriff.” Han recognizes the man’s face— from the masquerade ball’s invitations. “Lando Calrissian.”

“The one and only,” Lando says, and calls to a man by the doorway in a green, red, and black mask. “Boba Fett? This man is—”

“No, hang on, hear me out,” Han splutters. “It’s not what you think.”

“You’re trying to rob me.”

“… Okay, it’s what you think.”

“Boba Fett!”

“ _Wait_ ,” Han insists, hands splayed in a panic. “I won’t steal the crystals. Alright? I promise. We had a great night, you gotta admit, and now I’ll just… I’ll just scram. Alright? No hard feelings.”

“Oh,” Lando scowls, “I’m feelin’ hard.” They both take a moment. “Not… I mean… Not like… _Boba Fett!”_

“Wait,” Han says once again, and he takes off his mask.

“You’re going to change my mind with your dashing good looks?”

“No, I just can’t see shit in that thing,” Han says. “Okay, listen. Here’s the thing. The crystals are insured, right? You’re insured?”

Lando squints at him. “Yes, they’re insured.”

“Okay,” Han says. “So… you let me steal the crystals, split them up between us, and the insurers compensate you for your loss. Then you increase by half and I get what I came for.”

“You came for _half_ the crystals?”

“… Okay, I don’t get what I came for but I get half of what I came for and I don’t get killed by Boba Fett.”

Lando examines him carefully, and Han gets the feeling that he’s not just checking for honesty but also getting a good look at the man he’s been dancing with all evening. “You really think insurance fraud will work?”

Han nods. “It’s a favorite pastime of mine.”

“Hm,” Lando says, and while it looks like he’s still considering, he does at least wave of Boba Fett. “I have to admit, I like the way you think.”

Slowly, gradually, they move closer together again. “Yeah?” Han’s mouth feels dry. “I like the way you throw a party.”

“I like the way your eyes close when you kiss me,” Lando adds, and Han doesn’t really have a counter to that, so he just lets Lando pull him in by the waist once more.

 


End file.
